


Warriors of the Breach

by BurningLizard



Category: Dragon Age, Dragon Age (Video Games), Dragon Age - All Media Types, Dragon Age: Inquisition
Genre: F/M, M/M
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-01-03
Updated: 2017-01-03
Packaged: 2018-09-14 11:44:35
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,892
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9180109
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/BurningLizard/pseuds/BurningLizard
Summary: When André Trevelyan infiltrated Haven to rescue his twin sister from the mage templar war, he did not expect to see the world come undone before his eyes. From that moment onward he could only stand by her side as she ran headfirst to her own demise. Fortunately they have help in the form of heroes who had made it their life's mission to stand between Thedas and utter destruction.





	

Haven was like a broken anthill of activity. Everywhere André looked people were running and shouting. Everyone seemed to have someplace important to be, or something important to do. They moved with purpose and dedication, a lifestyle he had never ascribed to. All that purpose and dedication left no room to _think_ or _feel_.

 

With the conclave taking place at the Temple of Sacred Ashes he could not claim to be surprised that there was so much tension in the air. The mages and templars had only just arrived, and between the two groups glaring at each other and the chantry people trying to arrange everything it was no wonder that folks were on edge.

 

André for his part ignored the templars. It was the mages he was interested in. He cursed every hooded head that kept their faces hidden from him. Yet even among those that kept their faces bare he could not find her. Wherever Analise was, she was not among the mages currently making their way to the temple.

_She must have already gone to the temple. Or perhaps she has not yet arrived? Or is not coming?_

 

If  such was the case, then his plan to spirit Analise away with no one noticing was going to be significantly more difficult. Though calling it a plan was giving himself far too much credit, he supposed. He had not gotten beyond approaching Analise and asking her to run away with him. Anything after that moment had seemed secondary, and now that he found himself considering that it would not be quite so easy, he realized he was abysmally clueless.

 

If only her magic had never surfaced, then their family would not have sent her to the Circle. He glared at a man in a chantry tunic, as he passed him by. How anyone could follow an organization that tore sisters from their brothers simply because of an accident of birth was beyond him. As he watched the templars in their burnished plate armor he shuddered. And to think that this could have been his fate had he not run from home. Over the years he had his doubts, up until Analise’s magic had manifested itself he had been excited over his family’s plans to send him to the Templars. After Analise was taken away any thoughts of the Chantry soured in his mind. But seeing how things had developed, and the possibility that he could have been fighting against his own sister, André felt he had made the right decision. Now if only his parents agreed with him.

 

Where he had not made the right decision was in packing for his journey into Ferelden. This damned country was freezing! His coat was not nearly thick enough, though it was in the most fashionable cut of Val Royeaux. He particularly enjoyed the sea blue cloth with silver accents. But that was beside the point! Analise was not here. He would have to go directly to the temple and hope he could pick her out from the crowds there.

 

Just as he was about to start trekking up to the temple, once all the templars and mages had left Haven, the doors to the village chantry opened and three figures stepped out. They stood out among the bustle of the village as two of them were wearing unique silver and blue armor. He had not expected to find Grey Wardens anywhere in Haven. He wondered what they could possibly have to do with the conclave, as from his understanding the order tended to keep to themselves.

 

He caught snippets of conversation as they and the third person, a woman wearing a long mail byrnie and hood, passed him by.

 

“Divine Justinia will want to see the two of you right away,” the hooded woman said.

 

“I find that unlikely,” the female Grey Warden said. “I still don’t approve of this plan.”

 

“Still worth hearing her out,” the male Grey Warden said. “What’s the worst that could happen?”

 

André followed behind them. Not exactly following them as it were, but rather they were going in the same direction anyway. He made certain to stay at a distance that he could not hear them. They did not seem like the kind of people that would appreciate being eavesdropped on.

 

There was little else to do but watch the three ahead of him. Every once in a while, as they were conversing, they would turn their heads such that he could make out their features. He enjoyed watching people, and especially attractive people, to find ways to describe them using his words. He doubted very much he could do these people full justice though. The two Grey Wardens were most striking, blonde haired and pale skinned, with piercing green eyes.

 

The man’s hair grew past his shoulders, the top was held back by a thin leather strap, though some strands escaped, framing his face in a flattering way. He had a short, well trimmed beard, though his hairs were pale enough that it was hard to see at first glance. He smiled a lot. It was a good smile. At his waist he wore a sword, and on his back he carried a shield, the heraldry of which looked very familiar. André had never paid much attention to heraldry of any kind, it seemed a waste of time to him, but something about this one tickled his memory, as if it had been important during his lessons. He decided to dismiss the laurel wreath crest from his mind for the moment.

 

The woman’s hair was longer, down her back, and kept in a tight braid, not a single strand escaped it. She had similar features as the man, though hers were somewhat altered by a frown that André had not yet seen disappear. He was not one to tell a woman to smile, and besides that, her frown seemed as natural on her face as the smile was on the man’s. On her back was strapped a longbow and at her side a single handed sword.

 

André’s mind wandered, considering the possibilities of being in the middle of two such beautiful people. Though considering how similar their features were, he supposed them to be siblings and so his fantasies would definitely remain fantasies. Not many siblings he had ever met were open to such recreation. Considering their accents and the two hounds bounding through the snow ahead of them, André suspected they were Fereldan. That lot tended to be sticks in the mud when it came to these kinds of things.

 

The hooded woman was somewhat harder to make out, every once in a while he would get a flash of her face, or catch strands of red hair that fell past her hood. But she rarely turned from the path ahead enough to give him a clear view of her face. She carried a bow on her back as well, though it was somewhat shorter than the bow the Warden woman carried.

 

André realized that he had been walking faster than they, and was now close enough to hear what they were saying, especially when the man shouted.

 

“Crusher! Striker! Heel!”

 

The two hounds came bounding back. They paused when they noticed André, which caused the male Warden to turn around. André hesitated. He did not care for big dogs. Or even small dogs. He tended to prefer cats whenever he did want a pet. The dogs charged at him, and he thought they were going to bowl him over. But they stopped short and sniffed him, this close he was intimately aware of their large shoulders and heavy jaws. And the fact that they did not need to rise by much for their faces to be level with his own. With as little as he knew about Mabari, even he could tell these two were larger than the norm. These were most certainly not lap dogs. They reminded him more of small, and not even that small, bears. But like every dog he had ever encountered they seemed inordinately curious about sniffing at his crotch.

 

“Striker! Back!” The female Grey Warden called. “You don’t know where that’s been!”

 

André took some offense to that. His crotch had a high standard after all. Not just anyone was allowed near it. One of the dogs, the larger one, though not by much, backed away and ran back to the woman. The man whistled and the remaining dog returned to him. When André looked up all three people were staring at him.

 

“Can we help you?” The man asked.

 

“No,” André said. “I was just on my way to observe the conclave.”

 

The blonde woman’s glare took in André and his attire. She sniffed, turned around, and kept walking. The hooded woman followed along behind her. The man on the other hand stayed back a moment, to allow André to catch up. Despite the daggers hidden up his sleeves, and the rapier hanging at his side—which were more for personal defense than anything—André felt positively naked compared to the man’s plate armor. Normally he would not be averse to feeling naked, but in the snow, approaching a fully armed and armored warrior was not his ideal location. At least the man seemed friendly enough. He had the kind of warm smile that André felt drawn towards.

 

“You look like a man with a lot on his mind,” the man said.

_I am, but please don’t ask me to tell you what’s on my mind at this very moment._

 

From ahead of them the blonde woman sighed. “Bastian,” she said. “We do not have time to help every single person we come across.”

 

“I’m just being friendly,” the blonde man, Bastian, said. “We’re headed in the same direction after all.”

 

“And next you know, you’ll have us wandering off in search of a random trinket! I will not have it!”

 

“I promise to hold off on retrieving trinkets until after the conclave, okay?’

 

“If it helps,” André added. “I do not have any actual trinkets that need retrieving.”

 

“There, you see?” Bastian said.

 

The woman scowled, though how she reached a scowl from her default expression, André was not certain. Her eyebrows certainly didn’t have far to travel to reach that expression.

 

“I apologize,” Bastian said. “My sister has a lot on her mind. We’ve only just returned home to find this mess with the mages and the templars.”

 

“At least you managed to stay out of it,” André said. “Though I doubt the Grey Wardens would have concerned themselves with it much.”

 

“I wouldn’t be so sure,” Bastian said. “It’s much harder to do our job if the whole world is falling apart around us. Believe me, I would know. Though I do not believe I caught your name, Ser…”

 

“André,” he said. “André Trevelyan.”

 

“Trevelyan?” Bastian mused for a moment. “From the Free Marches, yes? Ostwick family?”

 

“That’s right,” André said. “Though I have not been home for some time. I’ve been out seeing the world. And writing about it.”

 

“A writer, huh?” Bastian said. “Anything I would have read?”

 

“Mostly poetry. And most of it unpublished.”

 

“A poet? Don’t let Bridget hear you admit that, she despises poetry, and most poets.”

 

“Did a poet steal from her or something? And Bridget is…”

 

“My sister. And no a poet did not try to steal from her. He did worse. He tried to seduce her. Try being the operative word. Afterwards he tried to climb out of the well she had thrown him into.”

 

André chuckled. “So your parents also named you and your sister with names beginning with the same letter?”

 

“For some reason they saw fit to confuse people,” Bastian said.

 

“Must have been a popular practice at the time,” André said. “My parents did the same with me and my sister.”

 

“And your sister is…”

 

André hesitated. He knew that his plans were not to be shared. And he had already shared more than he intended. There was something about this man that made him feel trustworthy. Perhaps it was his good looks, André admitted that he was always weak for a pretty face, but something about his demeanor made it easier to open up to him. Even without realizing that was what he was doing. André suspected this was what they meant by having a silver tongue.

 

“My sister, Analise,” André said. “Is a mage. I had hoped to come and meet with her. I’ve been worried about her welfare during the war. The Ostwick circle kept out of the fighting for the most part. But with her at the conclave, surrounded by templars and mages, I worry about her.”

 

He said no more. Admitting to his whole plan, what little there was of it, would be suicidal. No matter how trustworthy Bastian seemed. André had his fair share of pretty faces breaking his trust, he was not about to be entirely lured in again. He especially dismissed the possibility of Bastian and Bridget helping him. While Grey Wardens had nothing to do with the Chantry, these two were going to meet with the Divine. Who were they that the Divine wanted to speak with them?

 

“What’s the hurry?” Bastian called to the women, who had put significant distance between them. “The temple isn’t going anywhere.”

 

Next thing André knew he was on his back, his ears ringing, and everything around them and in the sky was chaos. He pushed himself to his feet. How had he fallen? The explosion. Right.

_Explosion?_

 

He looked up at the temple ahead of them. The sky was torn open, green fire was raining down from the tear above the temple. The temple itself was…

_No! Analise!_

 

Ignoring Bastian’s call, André stumbled up the path leading to the temple. He passed by templars and mages, pulling themselves to their feet. He ignored them, though with every flash of russet hair he paused. None of them were Analise.

_Maker please don’t let her be in that temple! I will do anything you ask of me! Just don’t let her be dead!_

 

###

 

A sickly green mist surrounded her. _Where am I? What happened?_ It took her a moment to remember even her own name. Who she was.

_It’s…Analise. Analise Trevelyan, I’m certain of it._

 

She reached up to feel her face. Everything was still there, her eyes, nose, and mouth. But she could barely remember anything. Fragments were coming back. More and more, her life in Ostwick before the tower, and during the tower. The mage rebellion. The conclave, and then…nothing.

 

Once Analise was certain she had remembered as much as she could, she looked around. There was nothing to be seen but rocks and the green mist, lit with a light that seemed to be coming from everywhere.

 

Skittering. A sound. There was something out there. Analise spun around. She looked up. There were steps leading to a great green light. The sound again. Behind her. She ran. The sounds of skittering feet followed her.

_Spiders, please don’t let it be spiders._

 

She ran up the steps, climbing on hands and knees in desperation. She looked behind her. Spiders. They _were_ spiders. She ran.

 

A woman ahead of her. She thought. Analise reached out, and then…

 

Nothing.

 

###

 

She awoke blinded by the green light from her nightmare. Analise gasped and tried to stand. Her hands were chained to the ground. Where was she?

 

She paused and took a deep breath, trying to remember. _Where is that green light coming from?_

 

Pain shot up from her hand. She looked and saw with horror the green light tearing her hand in two. It sparked like angry fire, like hot iron beaten by an impatient blacksmith. _What is this? How did this…_

 

Doors slammed open. Analise looked up, taking in her cell for the first time. _Why am I in a cell? What did I do?_

 

Three women entered the cell. The foremost had short black hair, and wore a breastplate upon which a white eye was embossed. She stepped forward and grabbed Analise’s hand, taking no care for gentleness.

 

“Tell me why we shouldn’t kill you now. The conclave is destroyed. Everyone who attended is dead. Except for you.”

 

“What do you mean everyone’s dead?” Analise tried to collect her thoughts, to restore herself to her usual detached calm. Her mind was racing with far too much input and no context, making it impossible for her to comport herself as was normal for her.

 

“Explain this!” The woman said. She held up Analise’s hand. Analise looked away from the green light.

 

“I don’t know!” Analise said. “I don’t know where I am, or what happened!”

 

“You’re lying!” The black haired woman grabbed Analise’s shoulders, dragging her to her feet and shoving her against the cell wall.

 

A second woman, blonde, with furious green eyes, stepped beside the first.

 

“This is a waste of time,” the woman said. “Stand aside, Seeker Pentaghast.”

 

The Seeker, _light what did I do to have one of them come after me?_ stood aside. Analise wondered who this second woman was, that someone like the Seeker would obey her. The woman glared at Analise, looking her over, as if her ragged robes could reveal something that Analise herself did not know.

 

“I would like to answer your questions,” Analise said, deferring to the figures of authority before her out of habit. “But I cannot remember how I got here.”

 

The blonde woman did not react. She reached out and in a grip like an iron vice took Analise’s chin and forced her to look into the green of her eyes. Analise tried not to think of the mark on her hand that those eyes reminded her of.

 

“You think this is some kind of joke?” the blonde woman asked. She made no threatening movement, though her demeanor suggested that violence was a very real possibility.

 

“I am not known for being humorous,” Analise said.

 

The woman kept her grip on Analise’s chin. Analise refused to struggle, and met the woman’s eyes with her own stubborn glare.

 

“Very well,” the woman said, releasing Analise and turning away.

 

Before Analise could relax, the woman had spun and leveled the tip of her sword at Analise’s throat. The woman said nothing, just glared.

 

The last of the three women, a redhead, stepped forward. “Bridget, wait,” she said. “We need her.”

 

“I’ve had a very long day,” Bridget said. “And I have somewhere I would much rather be.” She lowered her sword, pressing it against Analise’s chest.

 

Analise, doing her best not to breathe, stared the woman down. “I don’t know what is happening. I don’t even know how I got here. All I remember is…green light everywhere. And a woman…”

 

“A woman?” the redhead said. “What woman?”

 

“I don’t know,” Analise said. “I cannot remember anything else. How peculiar.”

 

“How convenient,” Bridget said.

 

“Enough,” the first woman said. “Leliana, you two go to the forward camp. I will take her to the rift.”

 

Bridget paused, staring at Cassandra before returning her sword to its sheath. Her expression made it very clear that she was doing so of her own volition, and not because of what the Seeker said. Analise gasped for air, finally able to breath without fear of impalement. She stood up straight and glared at Bridget, who ignored her.

 

“Hurry, Cassandra,” Leliana said, as she and Bridget left the cell. “We’ll meet you there.”

 

“Who was that woman?” Analise said, as she followed Cassandra out of the cell. Her first impressions of Cassandra aside, the woman seemed completely reasonable compared to Bridget.

 

“That woman is the Queen of Ferelden,” Cassandra said, tersely.

 

Analise raised an eyebrow. “I did not realize Seekers had a sense of humor.”

 

Cassandra gave her a level look, then turned to walk out the door and into the blinding light of day.

 

“Wait,” Analise said, shading her eyes as she followed after her. “You weren’t joking?”

 

“I never joke,” Cassandra said.

 

“That would make two of us,” Analise said.

 

Cassandra glared at her and made a noise that communicated the purest essence of disgust in non-verbal form.

 

Analise looked up at the sky. A green rift, the same as the light that split her hand, tore the sky apart. The same green that was tearing at the fragments of her memories. _What is it?_

 

“We call it the Breach,” Cassandra said, as if answering Analise’s thoughts. “As we speak, demons are swarming from it and rifts like it all over the valley.” Cassandra pushed Analise in the back, leading her forward. All around them people stopped about their business to glare at Analise. “All were caused by the explosion at the conclave. Unless we act the Breach will grow until it encompasses the world.”

 

The Breach flared, at the same time the mark on Analise’s hand flared up in response, shooting pain up her arm, rooting itself in her spine and causing spasms that threw her to the ground. Analise screamed in pain and fear. Cassandra knelt down by her side.

 

“Each time the breach grows, your mark expands. It may be the key to stopping the breach. But there is not much time.” Cassandra grabbed Analise by the arm, pulling her to her feet.

 

“So I don’t really have a choice,” Analise said, frowning at Cassandra. Her options were certainly limited, as much as being accused of something she could not even remember if she was guilty of, and knowing herself she would never have caused such harm were she in her right mind. All that aside, she lived in the world, or at least previously a small portion of it before the circles started to fall. If nothing else the most pragmatic choice would be to see that the Breach was settled with first, then deal with the question of her supposed guilt.

 

“None of us has a choice.”

 

Analise walked behind Cassandra, following her up the valley. The people continued to glare as she passed. _If only I knew whether the glares were deserved._

 

“They have decided your guilt, They need it.” Cassandra said. “The people of Haven mourn the death of our most holy, Divine Justinia. It was a chance for peace between mages and templars. She brought their leaders together and now she is dead.”

 

“Wait…” Analise turned to stare incredulously at Cassandra. “The Divine is dead? How did this happen?”

_You should know_ , Cassandra’s glare seemed to say.

 

“The same explosion that created the Breach also destroyed the Temple of Sacred Ashes. None survived. Except for you. Why is this?” Cassandra turned to level an accusatory glare at Analise.

 

She had no answer to give.

 

Cassandra pulled a dagger from her belt, grabbing Analise’s arm. Analise flinched, but Cassandra merely cut the ropes binding her wrists.

 

“Where are you taking me?” Analise asked, rubbing some feeling back into her wrists.

 

“Your mark must be tested on something smaller than the breach.”

 

They passed rough fortifications, where even as they advanced soldiers were faltering, turning and running for their lives.

 

“Maker! It’s the end of the world,” one of the soldiers yelled as he ran past them.

 

“Stand your ground soldier!” Cassandra yelled.

 

The man ignored her. Cassandra glared, a woman clearly not used to being ignored.

 

They approached a bridge, a sturdy thing if Analise was any judge. They were halfway across when the mark flared again, Analise glared up at the Breach just in time to see the ball of green fire plummeting towards them. Cassandra was ahead of her, unaware of what was coming for them.

 

“Watch out!” Analise yelled, grabbing Cassandra by the back of her armor. The Seeker yelled in protest, but looked up just in time to see the ball of fire strike the bridge right where she had been standing. With an ominous crack the bridge collapsed, sending them falling to the frozen waters below.

 

###

 

Disoriented for the third time today, Analise picked herself up. She looked around, and saw that Cassandra was already on her feet. Two demons crawled out of the crater left by the fire.

 

“Stay here!” Cassandra yelled, drawing her sword as she charged right at the demons.

 

One of the demons slipped past Cassandra, as the other rushed her. The first turned towards Analise. Analise backed away, stumbling over fallen stones.

_Why demons? Of anything, why did it have to be demons? I’d take spiders over them!_

 

She did not believe she could summon enough magic to fight a demon without her staff. She looked around for something to defend herself with. She could throw a rock at the demon! Among the debris from the collapsed bridge she saw a crate of supplies. Lying next to it was a crude staff, something an apprentice would construct, but better than her bare hands.

_How convenient!_

 

She grabbed the staff, leveling the head against the demon and channeling her energies through the construct. Her magic powered the enchantments on the staff, unleashing its inherent elemental runes as a burst of frigid air. The demon shrieked and backed away from the onslaught of spells Analise threw at it, the staff twirling in her hands as she unleashed as many bolts of ice as she could. It turned and ran, intent on taking Cassandra by surprise. Analise focused her energies on a more powerful spell, rather than channeling it through the staff’s enchantments. A ball of fire erupted from the head of the staff, taking the demon in the back of the head, blowing it off. The creature dispersed into shreds of fade and disappeared.

 

Analise smiled in victory as Cassandra ran at her. Her smile dropped when Cassandra leveled her blade in Analise’s face.

 

“Put down that staff!”

 

“I had to defend myself!” Analise said. She considered mentioning that she did not need a staff to defend herself, it just made things easier. But this was a Seeker she was dealing with. No amount of magic would help her against one of those.

 

She stared to put the staff down.

 

“Wait,” Cassandra said. “You’re right. I cannot protect you, and I cannot ask you to go into the valley unable to protect yourself.”

 

Analise picked the staff back up.

 

“I should remember,” Cassandra said, sheathing her sword, “you did not try to escape. And, thank you, for warning me.”

 

The further they went into the valley, the more demons they came across. Once they were working together Analise found that they were able to dispatch demons with significantly more efficiency. Even the ones attacking from a distance did not last long against her, and those that did soon found themselves being barreled down by the angry Seeker.

 

As they were climbing snow covered steps up a hill, Analise could hear sounds of men shouting, and of metal hitting flesh.

 

“There,” Cassandra said. “You can hear the fighting!”

 

“Who’s fighting?” Analise asked.

 

“You’ll see,” Cassandra said, as they made their way into the ruins of an old structure and into the middle of a battle.

 

Analise was not used to combat in the slightest. She had practiced offensive spells many times, but nothing compared to the actual act of casting them with intent to cause harm. The fact that it was demons she was fighting, creatures every mage was taught to fear, did not make it any easier. She could feel herself being drained from the strain of casting her spells, timing them so her strength was there when she needed the most powerful spells, and trying to keep herself focused in the here and now, and not considering what these demons could do to her if they were not destroyed.

 

The battle, this time, was quickly one, as their new allies made short work of the creatures. Soon there was only the rift left.

 

“Quickly!” An elf Analise did not recognize said, grabbing her hand. “Stand aside!” This he said to a warrior who was swinging his sword in an attempt to hit the rift.

 

The elf shoved Analise’s hand at the rift and it was as if fire was leaking from an open wound. The rift wavered, quivering with unstable energies before exploding, leaving no sign behind that it had ever been there.

 

“Impressive,” the elf said.

 

“You knew that would work?” Analise asked.

 

“I did not know,” the elf said. “But I suspected as much.”

 

“I swear,” the warrior who had been trying to hit the rift said. “Last time I saw these they closed when I hit them. Also, they weren’t green.”

 

“Perhaps, Ser,” the elf said, “those rifts you encountered were of a different nature. Weaker, more easily destabilized.”

 

“Perhaps,” the man said. “And that worries me all the more.”

 

“Great, so we’re knee deep in demon shit and hitting things isn’t working,” a third person, a beardless dwarf stepped forward.

 

“But perhaps introductions are in order,” the elf said. “I am Solas, a mage. I have been monitoring your condition ever since you were found.”

 

“What he means is he kept that thing on your hand from killing you,” the dwarf said. “Varric Tethras, storyteller, ne’er-do-well, tag-a-long and occasional nuisance.” He winked at Cassandra, who grunted.

 

“And I am Bastian,” the warrior said, taking off his helmet. “A pleasure to make your acquaintance.”

 

Analise had a good look at the man’s blue and silver armor, with a griffin insignia on the chest, for the first time. A Grey Warden?

 

“The pleasure is all mine,” she said. “I am Analise Trevelyan, and I’m afraid I’m here against my will.”

 

Varric laughed. “That seems to happen around the Seeker, for some unexplained reason.”

 

“I’m here willingly,” Bastian said.

 

“As am I,” Solas added.

 

“We need to keep going,” Cassandra said. “Hurry.”

 

“Lead the way,” Varric said.

 

“Oh no, absolutely not,” Cassandra said.

 

“Have you looked around, Seeker?” Varric said. “Your men aren’t exactly in control of the situation. You need me.”

 

Cassandra growled, but did not otherwise respond. Even Analise could tell that Varric was right. From everything she had seen, the situation was far beyond under control.

 

Cassandra led them through the valley, pausing only to deal with the small pockets of demons they encountered. After a quick moment to discuss their tactics they fell upon the groups with efficiency. Bastian and Cassandra drawing the attention of the demons, while Analise and Solas rained spells upon them and Varric flanked them from a distance. As they fought Analise noticed a pained expression on Solas’ face, but she did not have a chance to ask him about it. He did not seem to be in pain, just unhappy with the situation. She supposed she could not blame him for that.

 

“So where are you from, exactly?” Varric asked, eventually. “Your accent sounds Marcher. Hmmm…Ostwick?”

 

“Yes, actually,” Analise said. “Born there, then sent to the circle when I was young.”

 

“At least you didn’t go far from home,” Varric said.

 

“It’s not like my family could visit me,” Analise said.

 

“Blast me for a fool!” Bastian exclaimed. “I should have remembered. You have a brother, named André, right?”

 

“Yes…how do you know that?” Analise asked.

 

“I met him earlier, before the explosion,” Bastian explained. “He was on his way to the temple to meet with you.”

 

“André? He’s here? Where?”

 

“I don’t know,” Bastian said. “He ran off after the explosion. After that it was all we could do to keep the village from being overrun by demons. I’m sorry.”

 

“I have to find him!” Analise cried. “He could be hurt!”

 

“Right now we have to deal with the Breach,” Cassandra said. “You’ll help your brother best, if he is still alive, by closing it.”

 

“But afterwards,” Bastian said, “I promise we will look for him.”

 

Analise looked around at the chaos. She was not certain how long André could last in this. She knew he was not a warrior, he never really took any of his martial training seriously. He was always more interested in dueling and trying to compose poetry while dueling. From the little she had heard since the last time she saw him, he had been living a carefree life away from the family. This had annoyed her to no end, that he would abandon their family and the chantry to live a debauched life. Or at least she had assumed it was debauched. Details about what exactly he was doing had been slim. But debauchery seemed most in character for him.

 

Of course she had been sad when she left home. But she’d known it to be for the best. With her magic she was a danger to those around her, whether by losing control or by becoming possessed. And now she was surrounded by demons, the very reason she had left her loved ones behind in the first place. She shuddered at the thought, and put thoughts of her harrowing out of mind.

 

“You don’t suppose we’re at risk of being possessed, do you?” She asked. “With the demons coming through physically?”

 

Solas scoffed. “A typical chantry view. We are quite safe from possession. Though not quite so safe from actual attack.”

 

“Besides,” Bastian supplied, “I’ve known many mages. And none of them ever had any trouble with being possessed. As long as they weren’t idiots who listened to temptation. Well, there was one. But he was an idiot.”

 

They continued onward for some time more, trudging through the snow.

 

“Do you suppose,” Bastian said, “that the mark is related to the Templars’ ability to suppress magic?”

 

“Why do you say this?” Solas replied.

 

“Mages draw their power form the fade,” Bastian said. “And the Templar abilities enforce reality. If the mark can close the rifts in the fade, that seems at least passingly similar to Templar abilities.”

 

Solas nodded in consideration.

 

“Are you a Templar, Ser?” Analise asked.

 

“Not I,” Bastian said. “I studied their abilities when I was younger, but never joined the order.”

 

“I was not aware that one could learn Templar abilities without first joining the order.”

 

“A fellow Warden had been trained as a Templar before being recruited into the Wardens,” Bastian said. “I learned from him, and continued my studies after I had learned what he had as an initiate.”

 

“Why?” Analise asked.

 

“I was a different man back then,” Bastian said. “Wary of magic, to say the least. At the time it seemed logical to learn how to defend myself if I was to be in the presence of mages.”

 

“What changed?” Analise said.

 

“I learned new things,” Bastian said. “Grew to know the world better than I had. There was a mage I knew at the time. She…helped me see things in a new light.”

 

“Warden Alistair should not have taught you those things,” Cassandra said.

 

“Who said it was Alistair?” Bastian said. “It could have been any former Templar trainee turned Grey Warden.”

 

“And yet he would be the only one,” Cassandra said.

 

“Well, if you want to bring it up with him feel free,” Bastian said with a smile. “But I don’t think it will go so well.”

 

They arrived at a small courtyard, beyond which was a closed gate, and the conversation stopped there. Soldiers were fighting off demons pouring from a rift. They charged the demons and quickly finished them off. Analise felt a sense of accomplishment, as she closed the rift. It was as if she had grown more competent from this last battle. The day had not been going her way, but at least things were starting to look up. She may not understand the magic in her hand. But if it was from the maker, and the maker made magic to serve man, then she could only hope that it would allow her to close the Breach.

 

###

 

Through the gates they approached a table where Leliana and Bridget stood arguing with a man in chantry robes. Analise groaned upon seeing Bridget and hesitated to approach the table. Next to her, Bastian looked at her questioningly, but she shook her head.

 

“Seize her,” the man said when his eyes fell upon Analise. “I want her taken to Val Royeaux for questioning.”

 

Bastian took a step that put him between Analise and the guards. “I wouldn’t do that,” he said. “She appears to be our only hope for closing the Breach.”

 

Bridget looked up at Bastian, Analise was surprised to notice the clear similarities between the two, seeing them standing so close to each other.

 

“Did you try hitting them?” Bridget asked.

 

“I did,” Bastian said. “I could barely reach, and it didn’t seem to do anything.”

 

“How inconvenient,” Bridget said. She looked at Analise, who did her best to refuse to flinch. “Very well, she stays. She has some use. Unlike this idiot.” She gestured towards the man in chantry robes.

 

The man, who Analise discovered was named Roderick, argued against Bridget. The woman for her part carried herself with utmost certainty and little patience for fools. Analise could almost believe that she was indeed the Queen of Ferelden. She wondered who she should side with in the current debate. On the one hand Roderick seemed a blustering fool, but on the other hand he wasn’t the who leveled a sword at her throat. On the as of yet unexplained third hand, he was the one ordering her to be taken for trial and possible execution. It was decided, she would take the side of the Queen of Ferelden. But she would not like it.

 

“You are most gracious, your majesty,” Analise snarked.

 

Bridget glared at her, frowning as if she was having a hard time detecting any sarcasm in Analise’s tone. Analise glanced at Bastian, who was looking between herself and Bridget.

 

“Wait…” Bastian turned to Leliana. “Please tell me you didn’t let her interrogate…”

 

“I’m sorry,” Leliana said. “You know how she gets.”

 

“Why you insist on a battering ram when a key will do…” Bastian muttered. “Allow me to apologize for her, because I know she won’t.”

 

“Are the two of you related by any chance?” Analise asked, glancing between the two of them.

 

“What?” Bastian said. “You can’t see the family resemblance?”

 

“A blind man could see the family resemblance,” Varric said.

 

“We’re wasting time,” Bridget said, ignoring the lot of them. “We need a plan for dealing with the Breach.”

 

“I suggest a direct assault,” Cassandra said. “Take what soldiers remain and assault the Breach directly.”

 

It was risky, Analise was not sure she liked it. Running straight in to a nest of demons was not her idea of a good plan. But were there even any other options?

 

“There is another option,” Leliana said. Analise wondered if everyone here could read her mind. “There’s a mountain pass leading to the temple. It’s a longer route, but there would be less resistance. Though, I lost contact with a group of my scouts up there. So there could be something out there…”

 

Cassandra considered the options, and turned to Analise. “What do you think?”

 

“Me?” Analise asked. “You want my opinion?”

 

“You will be the one in the most danger,” Cassandra said. “And without you we stand no chance of success.”

 

She considered the options. On the one hand the direct assault would allow them to close the breach the fastest, and if André was out there somewhere that might be the fastest way to help him. On the other hand, he could possibly be in that mountain pass. If he was trying to get to the Temple he might be finding the safest route there. If they went that route it would be safer, and she could possibly see if André had gone that way. But no, she had everyone else to consider first.

 

“The direct assault,” Analise said. “We have to finish this as quickly as possible.”

 

“I’ll take the mountain pass,” Bastian said. “I won’t be able to close any rifts, but I’ll see if I can retrieve any of the lost scouting party.”

 

“Alone?” Analise asked.

 

“He can handle himself,” Bridget said.

 

Bastian smiled at Analise. “And on the way I can see if there are any wayward poets wandering the mountainside.”

 

“Thank you,” Analise said.

 

Bastian shrugged. “I haven’t done anything yet.”

 

“But still,” Analise said. “Thank you.”

 

Bridget frowned. “Poets? What in the Maker’s name are you talking about?”

 

“Just a joke,” Bastian said. “Don’t worry about it.”

 

Leliana and Bridget left to assemble the soldiers, as Bastian made his way into the mountain pass. A small number of soldiers followed him, having been directed by Bridget, despite her earlier insistence that Bastian could handle himself on his own.

 

Analise looked at her small group that would be advancing ahead of the rest of the soldiers. Cassandra was still glaring at her, though it seemed tempered by her suspicions beginning to melt away. Varric had a casual smirk on his face as he stroked his crossbow. She would have to ask him about that later. Solas kept his expression passive, awaiting her word. Somehow, Analise was not certain exactly when it happened, she had found herself the leader of this small group.

 

“Shall we go dance with some demons?” Analise asked, with far more bravado than she felt.

**Author's Note:**

> I hope you enjoyed this. If there’s one thing I can’t stop doing it’s thinking of new alternate scenarios for these games. One that keeps coming back, in several variations, is the idea of the Hero of Ferelden joining the Inquisition. Couple that with my love of multi-Warden fics and you get this basic idea. I mostly wrote it to get it out of my system, and I do have some ideas for later down the line, but because I keep putting more on my plate than necessary I don’t know whether I’ll continue this one. I wouldn’t mind, but it depends on reader reaction. If you’d like to see more leave a review and follow the story. Then after I’ve updated the overdue chapters on my other stories we’ll go from there.


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